


Sole Mate

by The_Epitome_of_Pretense



Series: The Sole Saga [13]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Dancing, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Robot/Human Relationships, Romantic Angst, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 09:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15793599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Epitome_of_Pretense/pseuds/The_Epitome_of_Pretense
Summary: After healing from a Deathclaw encounter, the Sole Survivor just wants a normal night on the town. Nick Valentine is happy to accommodate. However, spending time with the detective, especially in such an intimate setting, only serves as a painful reminder to Sole that the Old Nick already had a sweetheart. But what about the New Nick?





	Sole Mate

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for stopping by! I hope you enjoy this fluff, crafted from the finest self-indulgence and wish-fulfillment.  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> (Edit: I changed the name from "Synthetic Sole-Mate" to just "Sole Mate.")

Sole wondered if the sequin dress was too much. Part of her wanted to wear her old Vaultsuit—no need to put on airs for a casual evening. Plus, the Vaultsuit didn’t make the PipBoy strapped to her arm seem so out of place. But the other part of her wanted to dress up just for the hell of it; if a girl can’t get dolled up for no reason after the end of the world, when can she?

She turned in front of a broken mirror that hung on the wall, admiring how the dress sparkled on her curves. She wondered if she would have given this dress a second glance if she had found it in a department store before the bombs fell. The world had gotten a lot uglier since then, but Sole was grateful for gems like this. Maybe they shone all the brighter for the darkness, she thought, then laughed at herself. When did she become such a sap?

Not that Nick seemed to mind. It was a good thing, too, considering how ridiculous she acted around the detective.

 _Don’t get drawn back into all that_ , she thought. _Keep it together_.

She huffed at her reflection. Sap she may be, but her inner buzzkill was alive and well. Maybe that was why she never paid attention to dresses like this in the old days.

A knock sounded at the door. A familiar voice came from the other side.

“Hey, I don’t need to come in and rescue you, do I?” Nick said.

“Goodness’ sake, I get a little scratch and suddenly I can’t do anything without you worrying,” Sole replied.

“How about you try going a few months without running into any Deathclaws and I’ll consider taking the watchdog routine down a notch.”

“Deal.”

Sole had that Deathclaw to thank for several weeks of agony and a new collection of scars across her back, but at least she got this night as well. A strange consolation prize for nearly dying, but she took it gladly. When she was finally able to walk and talk and laugh again without clutching her side in pain, she could think of nothing she wanted more than to spend one evening pretending that the world was normal. Nick seemed to like the idea as well. She just wanted a night out; spending it at The Third Rail was his idea.

She took one last look in the mirror before heading for the door. The purple sequins on her hips glinted especially bright, even in the shady room. It was too vibrant, she realized. Too eye-catching.

She froze midstep. Her stomach churned. What was she thinking, dressing like this? Suddenly it all seemed desperate and pathetic. He had given her his answer: Nick Valentine already had a girl. Even if that girl was just a memory, he would be true to her. It was settled. Did Sole believe a little sparkle would change his mind?

 _Maybe I have time to change, if I make it quick_ , she thought.

Nick tapped at the door again. Her stomach dropped. She had already kept him waiting long enough. There was nothing for it but to go out looking like a fool.

She cracked the door and peeked through. Nick had gone some paces down the hallway and now leaned against a crumbling wall. Something about the way he stood—the self-assured ease with which he always carried himself, now heightened by his relaxed posture—made Sole catch her breath. She wondered if she would ever be able to look at him without needing to collect herself afterward. The idea of taking a break often occurred to her, but she could never bring herself to do it. As much as it hurt to be near him, the thought of being apart was torture. Either way would bring her pain. Why not relish their friendship while she could? It was rare to find someone she trusted this much, and she didn’t want to give that up. It wasn’t his fault she caught feelings. She would never make him go it alone because of a little pain. She steadied herself and stepped into the hall with all the nonchalance she could muster.

He glanced back at her.

“Ready to—” He began, but trailed off. She thought she saw his yellow eyes flick across her, looking her up and down.

“Boy,” he said, “talk about dressed to kill.”

Sole let out a breath that had long gone sour. Just acknowledging the glittery elephant in the room brought some relief. She started down the stairs that led to the lobby of the Hotel Rexford.

“More like dressed to be killed. It’s a good thing we’re not leaving the city; I feel like a walking target in this getup,” she said.

“Why not wear something different, then?”

“Because this is my special night out and I want to feel pretty. Besides, I’m not too worried. There's this tin can following me around that I can use as a shield if I have to.”

She chanced a look back, hoping that her jibe was not too harsh. Nick merely smirked.

“Tin can, huh?” he said. “I think I prefer synth detective, but keep trying. How about I start calling you ‘spare rib’ from now on?”

“Oh please, I’m clearly prime rib.”

“It's a wonder you have any ribs left after what happened.”

Sole was about to quip back when her foot missed the last step of the staircase. She stumbled into the lobby, striking her knees on the hardwood floor. Centuries of apocalyptic conditions hadn’t softened it in the slightest. Her face flushed with embarrassment. The scars on her back throbbed. This outfit was more trouble than it was worth.

“Damn heels,” she muttered. “Knew I should have worn my boots.”

Nick helped her to her feet. “You okay?” He said.

She rotated her ankle and tested her weight. It was a little sore, but nothing to worry about.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

He took her arm before starting toward the door.

“For my own piece of mind,” he explained. “You know, you’d give me a heart attack if I had one.”

Sole struggled to think of something clever to say, but no words came. All she could think about was how close he was, about how the smell of oil and metal mixed with the cologne he wore to cover it up. About how sure his arm felt in her own. About how all of these things made her heart race.

 _Cut it out_ , she told herself. She only half listened.

Her heart was still racing when they emerged into the streets of Goodneighbor. Walking out together made her feel exposed somehow, as though she expected someone to make trouble over it. But she and Nick weren’t together, not really—and as far as she could tell, no one suspected that they were. Some drifters raised an eyebrow as they passed, and one even complimented her dress, but most wore expressions more akin to boredom than anything. No one cared.

 _This isn’t Diamond City_ , Sole reminded herself.

She shuddered to think what might happen if they pulled a stunt like this in the capital of synth-phobia. Would Nick’s good name keep him safe? Maybe it wouldn't have to. It was possible that everyone would think nothing of it.

 _So why can’t I?_ Sole thought.

The question bothered her even as they entered The Third Rail. Magnolia’s smooth, sultry voice carried a song up to greet them as they descended the stairs into the bar.

“Something the matter?” Nick asked, taking a seat on one of the run-down couches that dotted the room.

“What?”

“You look a bit down. Now don’t say you’re tired of me already.”

A twinge of guilt gnawed at her. She had hoped that her poker face was better than that. But if her self-pity was going to spoil the night for both of them, she would put an end to it right then and there.

“No, no, I’m just a little scatterbrained is all. I’m gonna grab a beer and try to quit thinking so much. Can I get you anything? Tank of gas maybe?” She said with a smile.

“You may be old, but even you aren’t old enough to remember using fossil fuels.”

“Oh, go run a diagnostic.”

She left his smug grin behind and ordered a drink. When she returned, a woman was thanking Nick for his work on an old case. The stranger gave a final, grateful word, nodded at Sole, then left. Sole settled onto the threadbare seat beside him.

“Another happy customer?” She said.

He shrugged.

“All in a day’s work.”

“—When you’re a good, good neighbor,” she sang, trying to mimic Magnolia’s deep tone.

“Not bad,” he chuckled. “If that dress were red, I wouldn't be able to tell you two apart.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’d have to ask a question that only you would know. Maybe something like, ‘snack cakes dipped in Nuka-Cola: good combination or bad?’”

“For heaven’s sake, that was one time.”

“Then again, that question wouldn’t be tough enough. I don’t even eat, and I know that wouldn’t taste good.”

“I was curious!”

“You know what they say about curiosity and the cat.”

“Yeah, that satisfaction brought it back, so shut up.”

He shot her a sidelong grin. They fell silent, letting the music fill the space between them. Nick lit a cigarette. Sole sipped her beer and tried not to let herself dwell on how nice it felt to sit together and just be. He fidgeted with the sleeves of his jacket. She had never seen him fidget like that before; he always seemed at ease, unshakable in any situation.

She stole a look out of the corner of her eye and saw that a thoughtful, almost nervous look had replaced his grin. She wondered what was bothering him. Boredom, maybe? If ever a man needed a distraction, she thought, it was him. A dozen conversation topics popped into her mind, but each one withered under a barrage of reasons why it would be a poor choice. Finally, before she could overthink it, she said,

“Do you miss anything about the old days?”

The question seemed to shake him from his thoughts. He furrowed his brow for a moment.

“The memory’s a little fuzzy, but… Eh, you’ll just laugh,” he said.

“No I won’t.”

“You say that, but I know you. You’re too ornery.”

“Come on, tell me.”

“Alright, alright,” he paused to take a drag, then watched the smoke curl up to the ceiling.

“I miss the dancing,” he continued. “Nobody dances anymore. Sure, they don’t have much good reason to, but it’s still a shame. I mean, look at this place,” his eyes grew distant with memories. “Two hundred years ago, this sort of place would be packed with people living it up. Would you ever go out on nights like this and just—just tear up the town? Find a hot spot and dance until you could barely breathe? I think I used to. Or, the old Nick did, at any rate.”

Sole leaned back and let her head rest on the couch.

“No. Sorry to disappoint, but I was a real stick in the mud,” she said. “I spent my twenties studying and never learned to have a good time. I knew I missed out, but I didn’t mind so much when I had my law practice to make it all seem worth it.”

“Sounds to me like you made some smart decisions. You shouldn’t feel bad about that.”

“I suppose. Of course, now that everything’s gone to Hell in a Vault-Tec handbasket, I wish I had indulged my wild side a bit more. If I could do it all over again, knowing what was going to happen... I think I would have had a bit more fun. Maybe I would have found the old Nick and cut loose a bit. Was that old cop much of a dancer?”

“He might have known a move or two,” he smirked.

 _He was probably good at it_ , she thought.

Her heart ached at the thought of dancing with him. She put the idea out of her mind and focused instead on Magnolia’s music. But the song was winding to a close; the singer ended the tune with a soft, deep note, then said,

“Alright everybody, we’re going to take a short break. You be good while I’m gone.”

Then she winked at the audience and left the stage. Sole searched for something else to preoccupy her thoughts. She reached over and snatched the cigarette from Nick’s hand, taking a short drag before handing it back to him.

“You better watch yourself, or I’ll have to bring you in for theft,” he said.

“Sure you will,” Sole said with a wry grin.

“See what I said? Ornery as the day is long.”

“I’m just making sure they don’t go to waste. I refuse to believe that you get anything from smoking.”

“What can I say. Old habits,” Nick said, settling further back into the seat. “Speaking of—”

He held out his hand in an expectant gesture. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Beg all you like, but I’m not sharing my beer. You’ll rust or something,” she said.

“Not the beer. I want to see that PipBoy for a second.”

“Gee I would Nick, but it’s kind of strapped to my arm at the moment.”

“Let me see the whole thing then.”

He took her hand and positioned her arm where he could look at the PipBoy screen. She moved closer to keep from losing her balance, excruciatingly aware of the fact that her leg was now pressed against his. To make matters worse, he draped his arm across her shoulders. Sole had to remind herself to breathe.

 _Now he’s the ornery one,_ she thought. _What game is he playing?_

He fiddled with the controls until he found the radio page, then tuned it to Diamond City Radio. A smooth voice rang out.

_This is Travis “Lonely” Miles here, and I’ve got a little treat for all you listeners. After doing some digging out in our lovely Commonwealth, I’ve managed to find a treasure. Have you guessed what it is? It’s a nice, clean record of your favorite crooners, The Inkspots. So here’s a new one for all you love birds out there. Enjoy._

A soft piano began to play.

_We lived our little drama_

_We kissed in a field of white_

_And stars fell on Alabama_

_Last night..._

Nick nodded approvingly, extinguished his cigarette, then stood and offered his hand.

“May I have this dance?” He said.

Sole nearly choked on her beer.

“What?” She said.

“Come on, Doll, let’s hit the floor. Show these folks a little taste of the old days.”

“I—I just told you I’m no good at this.”

“Well you can’t just spend your night out sitting on an old, ratty couch.”

Sole knew it would hurt for days and days if she agreed. He must have known that too. Why was he tormenting her? But she also knew that she would regret not taking him up on the offer, and that would be the greater of two evils.

She set her beer on the side table, then rose and took his hand. He led her to the middle of the room and wrapped his arm about her waist. She felt a dozen eyes watching them, but even that couldn’t hold her attention. He pulled her close—much closer than she expected. She froze in place, forgetting that they were supposed to be dancing. He cast her an inquiring look.

“Sorry, I think I’m still a bit worn out,” she said.

“I’ve got a shoulder if you need it.”

 _Don’t do it,_ she told herself.

She did not listen, but rested her head on his shoulder. He began guiding her in slow, easy circles.

“Since we’ve been on the topic of the old days, let me throw that question back at you,” he said. “What do you miss?”

His chin brushed against her hair as he spoke. A shiver ran down her spine.

“Goodness, where to begin…” she said, struggling to collect her thoughts. “Well, aside from everything? I don’t know. Hot showers. With real soap. And... I guess I miss going on road trips.”

“Being stuck in a metal coffin for hours on end? Odd choice.”

“No, that wasn’t the part I liked about it. It wasn’t the trip itself, it was the fact that I could just up and go, you know? Just pack my things and drive all the way to California if I wanted to.”

“California, huh?”

“Not that I ever went that far, but you get the idea. Now I can’t even walk twenty feet out of a city without getting ambushed by mutants. Makes me a bit stir-crazy sometimes.”

“I can understand that. This world has a way of beating you down. It’s hard to stay positive.”

“Mmh. You make it a lot easier.”

She immediately wished she had said something else. Or nothing at all. A growing panic sprung up in her gut. She struggled to find anything to say. The music threatened to derail her train of thought.

_I can’t forget the glamour_

_Your eyes held a tender light_

_And stars fell on Alabama_

_Last night…_

“I’ve never been to Alabama,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I never cared to see it back then. But now that it’s gone? Damn, I really, really want to see Alabama. Isn’t that just pathetic?”

“No, not at all,” he said. “We always want what we can’t have. And now that there’s so much more in the “can’t have” category, it makes sense that even the little things would get to you.”

She had only brought it up to fill the gap in their conversation, but his response comforted her in a way she didn’t expect. In the Commonwealth, it really was the little things that mattered the most, both good and bad. Everything that had happened since coming out of the vault seemed like a dream to her—like any minute she would wake up in her old bed, with breakfast waiting for her and Halloween just around the corner. One of these days it would hit her that her old life was gone. Someday soon everything would come crashing down and she wouldn’t know what to do. But today, Sole promised herself, she would wear a loud dress, dance with a man she couldn't have, and enjoy the moment.

She sighed and relaxed a little into Nick’s embrace. The song ended, and another began to play.

_If I didn't care, would it be the same?_

She let out a quiet laugh.

“You know, it’s funny,” she said, “You’re the most normal thing in my life. Don’t you think that’s funny? Of all the crazy things, this metal detective I found in a vault is the one thing that makes me feel like everything might be okay.”

“I’ve been called a lot of things, but I think ‘normal’ is a new one,” he chuckled.

“Hey, I’m being serious,” she sighed and squeezed his hand. “I’m glad to have you watching my back. You’re a good friend.”

_Would my every prayer begin and end with just your name?_

He paused mid-step for a moment.

“Listen, I’ve been thinking about that. And… well, tonight seems as good a time as any to talk about it,” he said. “I told you that I didn’t want to be together because I was still hung up on Jennifer—because it felt like betraying her.”

Her stomach twisted. She knew the reason they couldn’t be together, but all the same, she didn’t want to hear it.

“I understand. She’s special to you,” Sole said.

“But I need to be honest with myself. I never actually met the woman. Sure, I have all these memories of her, but she was never mine. Not really.”

“I don’t blame you for still caring for her.”

“I know you don’t. But maybe—what I’ve been thinking is—maybe it’s time that I moved on with my life. Not his life, but mine.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She met his eyes.

“What do you mean?” She said.

He pulled her closer.

“Do I have to say it?”

Her voice had vanished. She nodded her head.

“I want to be your man,” he said quietly. “If you’ll still have me.”

He was so close now that she could feel his breath on her face with every word. The smell of smoke, so familiar to her now, all but smothered her. His metal hand wound tighter around her waist. Her heart nearly beat itself to pieces.

_And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare?_

“How can I say no when you touch me like that?” She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

His good hand released hers and drifted to her face, tracing her jaw, lifting up her chin. She let her fingers twine about the lapel of his jacket. He pressed on her back, bringing her face closer to his.

_Would all this be true if I didn’t care for you?_

Their lips all but touched; a faint, tingling shock passed between them. He let them linger there for a brief moment, as if he was making up his mind at last. Then, in the span of a blink, the tension broke, and the imperceptible space between them disappeared. Their lips met.

And Sole was glad she had worn the sequin dress.


End file.
